by Martin Tays
“No.” Moses replied sharply. “Sorry, doc. Clive. No passes. It was wrong, and you know it.”
Clive slumped, eyes closed. Finally, he nodded. “I… I suppose you’re right. I just didn’t think. I realized I could, and I did.” He looked pained. “I was trying to help him.”
“I know. Welcome to real life, where there’s no black and white choices.” Moses closed his eyes and sighed again. “If it’s any consolation, I might have done the same thing.”
The doctor looked over, a ghost of a smile on his face. “No, you’d have kidnapped him and taken him to a different star system.”
“You’ve got a point.” Moses smiled in return. “A fellow should stick with what he’s good at.”
“I’ve always believed so.” Smith looked at Moses for second, then pushed over to one of the lab units, speaking as he went. “Come over here, I’ve something to show you.”
“Um, sure.” Moses pushed his way across the lab.
“Didn’t you wonder why I was able to prepare a modified nanite seed suite for the alien so fast?” Clive said as he brought up an image on a vid window.
“Well, I assumed it was because you’d already had to construct a replacement one for me.”
“No.” The doctor shook his head, then paused and shrugged. “Well, yes, that helped, actually. But making one for someone of an entirely different species should have been a much, much, much more difficult proposition. As it turns out, though, I was able to strike two of the ‘muches’ from the difficulty level.”
“Did you mean for that phrase to make my grammar bone hurt?”
Smith cocked a practiced eyebrow at him. Moses shut up as Smith pointed toward the display and continued. “Now, here is the reason. On the left is human DNA ― yours, specifically.” He looked over and shrugged. “I had it available.”
“Awww, look at that. I’ve got my Mom’s polypeptides.”
Clive glared at him, then continued. “And on the right is the DNA of our guest.”
Moses looked at the two images. Side by side, they looked similar. Remarkably similar. “Those are awfully close, aren’t they?”
“Yes. Yes, they are.” He turned and met Moses’ eyes. “Approximately 94% congruent, in fact. Just slightly less congruency than we have with chimpanzees.”
Moses’ jaw dropped. He turned from the doctor and stared at the two floating images. Finally, he turned back to Smith. “We’re… we’re related?”
“In a word, yes. We’re related.”
Moses blinked. “You know, I had an uncle, once, who went to the zoo. Stood and stared at the hippopotamus for fifteen minutes before he turned away and said ‘there ain’t no such animal’.”
“And your point?”
Moses pointed toward the image. “Hippo.”
“This hippo is real.” Smith replied flatly. “I am not joking. Remember…”
“I know, I know. No sense of humor. Tested. Got it.”
“Indeed.” He looked toward the display, then turned back to Moses. “You realize this changes everything we’ve ever known about ourselves, yes?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it does. Knocks it into a cocked fucking hat, that’s for sure.” He stared at the impossible image for a moment, then turned. “Look, keep this to yourself, okay? It’s going to be difficult enough explaining to S’Nhu-gli that he’s now effectively immortal. This other stuff’d probably give him a heart attack, had you left him the wherewithal to have one.”
“How very inconsiderate of me.”
Moses cocked an eyebrow. “Doc, are you sure about that humor thing?”
“Quite. I will not mention it to him.”
“Thanks.” Moses turned to leave, then paused at the door. “And Doc?”
“Yes, captain?”
“You did good.”
Clive looked at him for a beat, then nodded. “Thank you.”
☼
“Moses, you’ve got to tell him.”
“I know, I know. I just… haven’t found the right time, yet.” Moses replied to Ami’s reasonable statement. They were walking downturn in the corridor of the hab ring, headed toward the mess deck.
Directions in the ring were simple: upturn, or against the direction of the ring’s rotation, downturn, or with the rotation, forward and aft. Just downturn from them, on the forward side, was the door to the mess deck. Moses paused and looked over at Ami. “So, just what is this surprise, anyway?”
“If I told you, it…”
Moses interrupted. “Wouldn’t be a surprise. I know. Okay, fine, whatever ― just so long as Leo doesn’t jump naked out of a cake.”
“Oh. Thanks. I pictured it.”
“See?” Moses replied reasonably. “I told you naked men look goofy.”
“Shush. We’re here.” She gestured grandly, and Moses entered the room.
Normally, there were several tables around the room, to allow for smaller groups and a bit of privacy. The smaller tables, however, had been removed and one large one extruded in their place down the center of the room.
Around it sat all of the crew save No, who was on duty on the bridge. Even the doctor was there. On each of their heads was…
Moses looked over at Ami. “Are those yarmulkes?”
“Yep.” She held one out to him.
He stared at it for a moment, bemused, then put it on. “Where the hell did you get yarmulkes?”
“Well, um, we actually used one of my bras as a pattern. The fabricator did the rest.”
Moses turned toward her, eyebrows raised high enough to vanish under the front edge of the cap. “Everyone’s wearing a brassiere cup on their head?”
“Yes.”
Moses snorted. “Oh, man, Rabbi Yamato would plotz.” He looked around, then back at Ami. “I’ve lost track of the date. Is this what I think it is?”
She nodded, beaming. “Happy Passover!”
“Well, you don’t really say… oh, never mind. Thank you. Thank you all.” He looked at the table, amused. “Okay, let’s figure this out. Which is the bitter herbs?”
Fiona pointed. “The garlic.”
Moses nodded. “Okay, I can see that. But…” He looked over at Cath. “Isn’t that your lucky rabbit’s foot?”
“Nope. Tonight, it’s a lamb’s shank.”
“Okay. Other than the fact that rabbit is tref and doesn’t belong within a mile of a Seder, it’s perfect. And this… is…” He paused, then shot a confused look at Doug.
“Gefilte vat chicken.”
“Of course.” He nodded as he poked at the dish. “Looks inedible. Just like Mom used to make.”
“Thanks!” Doug replied, then looked puzzled. “No, wait…”
“And a real egg. At least I think it’s a…” Moses leaned in for a closer look. “What the hell is that?”
“That is my contribution.” Said S’Nhu-gli as he adjusted the — for him — massively oversized yarmulke on his head. “From the small store of food I brought on board. It’s a fermented egg from… you’d probably call it a… I’m not sure what you’d call it. What has six legs, fur and wings?”
“I can’t answer that question… there are children present.”
“It’s considered quite a delicacy among our people.”
“Huh. Explains why it’s green, I suppose. That muffled thud you just heard was my Blumenkrantz exploding. But thanks.” He looked around at the group. “Thank you all. I’m… damn. This is wonderful. Thank you all.” He moved to sit down.
Fiona held out a warning hand. “No! You can’t sit here.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“That’s Eliza’s seat!”
Moses smothered a grin and replied seriously. “Elijah, dear. One crossed a river on ice; the other parted a r
iver by trying to beat it to death with an overcoat.”
“Oh.”
“It’s okay. And Elijah can have that seat over there. I’m gonna sit where I can see the door.”
Ami looked puzzled. “Why?”
“Because if Elijah does walk in on this, I want to see the expression on his face.”
“I am fascinated by this ritual of yours, M’Hoses,” S’Nhu-gli said from the other end of the table. “It commemorates the release of your sub-group of humaans from bondage, yes?”
Moses looked over. “Yes. Everything represents something. The herbs…” He pointed at the clove of garlic, “Represent the bitterness of slavery. Which is, you know, pretty damn bitter. The lamb’s shank, the Passover sacrifice.”
“And the egg?”
“Um… I will check. Anyway, there’s lots of ritual involved in everything. Some of them, frankly, kind of odd. I should have, for an example, sold all of my bread before now.”
“Oh, that reminds me. You did.”
“I did?” Moses looked over toward Doug. “Good for me. When?”
“You know that half a roast beef sandwich you left in the fridge?” Doug replied, smiling. “I knew you couldn’t own bread, so I ate it.”
“Gosh. Thanks, Doug. That was very thoughtful of you.”
“Think nothing of it.”
“You owe me a dollar. Anyway…” He looked back at the alien, “The point of it all is to remember the flight from Egypt. Everything else ― the props, the matzoh, even the wine…” He pointed at Cath’s homemade blue hootch, “Such as it is, are secondary. It is a day of thanksgiving.”
“Then I shall give thanks, also. I do not know what Doctor Smith, here, gave me, but I feel wonderful. Better than I have felt in years. I am thankful for that.” He looked over at Smith, who had the good grace to look away uncomfortably.
“Yeah. About that.” Moses looked at the doctor, then back to the alien. “You, um… so, you feel good?”
“Yes, I do. I don’t think I realized how much pain I put up with on a day to day basis until it had abated.”
“So. Would you say you felt young again?”
“Yes. Yes, I think I would safely say th…” S’Nhu-gli blinked, then stopped dead. Very slowly, he turned and looked at the doctor, who refused to meet his gaze. He looked back over at Moses, incredulous.
“Do you remember…” Moses asked, carefully, “on the shuttle, when you asked me how it felt to know I was going to live forever?”
“… yes…” The alien replied in a hesitant voice.
“So you tell me. How does it feel?”
“Moses! Jesus.” Ami hissed from across the table.
“That’s an extraordinary exclamation for a Passover celebration, but… sorry.” He shrugged. “I figured he’d want to know all at once.”
S’Nhu-gli took a deep ragged breath and let it out slowly. He replied to Ami. “No, child, he is correct. I would prefer to know, as he said, ‘all at once’. Unfortunately, friend M’Hoses, I must digest this before I can answer your question.” He looked, then, over at the doctor. “Why did you do this to me, Doctor Smith?”
“You were dying. I’m a healer. I healed.”
“Did you not think that I might have an opinion on the matter?”
Smith looked up and replied sharply. “And what if I had asked you? What then? What would you have said?”
“I suppose, Doctor Smith, that we will never know. And this is all, as my people say, ‘yesterday’s meal’.” He looked over at Moses. “And a subject fit for discussion at another time. We have rudely interrupted this ‘Paz’Hover’ celebration. I believe we should continue.”
Moses looked at S’Nhu-gli for a long moment, then nodded. He stood up, glanced around the room, then turned back to speak to the alien.
“In that case… let me see… candles, wine, greens… oh, screw it, let’s cut to the chase. I think it’s about time for a question. I believe that it’s your cue, youngin’.”
“Indeed.” S’Nhu-gli stood, looked at the haggadah in his hand, took a deep breath and spoke.
“Why is this night different from every other night?”
“What is interesting about the revolution in longevity is that no one, and I mean no one, understood the long term impact of it occurring. Man has always wanted to live forever, yet few people grasped the consequences of what for all practical purposes was immortality, both positive and negative. It was a watershed in human development, and we let it blindside us.”
Thaddeus Griffin, from “The Ultimate Paradigm”
“And then one morning I woke up and thought ‘hey… I’m going to live forever’. And then I rolled over and looked at my wife and thought ‘till death do us part’.
And that’s when I got really scared.”
Davis Montana, comedian, on “The Tonight Show with Frances Nhlakanipho”
Chapter 23
“The longer I live the more beautiful life becomes.”
Frank Lloyd Wright
“Warp engine cutoff in five… four… three… two… one. Warp engine off line.”
Moses nodded to Mattie at the helm, then turned to S’Nhu-gli, who was floating near the command chair on the bridge.
S’Nhu-gli waved at the vid window ― which he’d been astonished to discover he could now see along with the humaans ― at the front of the room. “Welcome to my home.”
Moses glanced at the view, which showed the alien’s home system. The survey software package had kicked in and was highlighting recognizable planets. He turned back. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”
They had come out of warp above the plane of the ecliptic in order to lessen the possibility of colorful kinetic interaction with any of the planetary masses. The image showed the system: six planets found so far, all orbiting a white dwarf star a bit less than twice the size of Sol. There were probably more planets, once, but they had no doubt been drawn away by the larger, Type ‘A’ companion star orbiting at a respectful distance of around fourteen AU.
Moses turned to S’Nhu-gli. “So what’s it like, growing up with two suns?”
“That’s a difficult question to answer. What is it like growing up without two suns?”
“Darker, probably.” He shrugged. “What I can’t figure out is why your planet developed life at all. It’s orbiting closer than the Earth to a more energetic star than our own. Logically, it should have never happened.”
“Solar radiation is, in fact, one of the things we were most concerned with when we first ventured into space. We discovered that the magnetic field around our planet is quite… energetic, I suppose you could say… which of course assisted in deflecting the particles from our sun.”
“How energetic?”
“Let me put it this way… the existence of the field was first postulated when it was noted that any long piece of iron would, if possible, naturally align itself with our planet’s magnetic poles.”
“Wow.” Moses whistled. “So your people discovered the compass before the wheel?”
S’Nhu-gli nodded. “Essentially, yes, that is correct. This field, plus our somewhat denser atmosphere, we believe, is what allows for our survival.”
“You must have God’s own ozone layer, too.” Sandar added from the nav station.
“Ozone being?” Asked the alien.
“Ozone is… what’s that word? Ah! Ozone is an allotrope of oxygen. It’s three oxygen molecules bonded together.” Moses replied, smacking his hands together in an apparent effort to demonstrate molecular bonding. “It absorbs ultraviolet light. Handy stuff ― don’t leave home without it.”
“Indeed. I know the molecule you refer to. We in fact do have ‘God’s own layer’ of it. It has also assisted in keeping our home habitable.”
Ami pointed to the viewscreen. “Which one’s yours? And what do you call it, anyway?”
“My people refer to it simply as ‘home’. Or, at least, that is what the word means in the archaic language it came from. The name we use is Taan.”
“So you’re a ‘Taanian’?” Ami asked.
S’Nhu-gli’s muzzle wrinkled. “In your language, yes. As you are ‘Earthians’.”
“We prefer ‘Earthanoids’, actually.” Moses interjected.
“No. We don’t.” Ami responded. She briefly glared at Moses, then turned back to S’Nhu-gli. “I’ll make a deal with you… I won’t call you a Taanian if you won’t call me an Earthian.”
“That is a deal that I am quite willing to make. Taan, my planet, is that one.” He gestured toward the viewscreen. “The forth one from the sun. It is in the middle of what we refer to as the ‘liquid water’ region.” He turned toward Moses and continued. “Those of my brethren in the church who study the biological sciences have determined that water in its liquid form is necessary for life to develop.”
Moses nodded. “We tend to refer to it as the ‘Goldilocks Zone’, where everything is just right. So yeah… we’ve always believed that, too. And now we’ve finally got another case study to help prove it.”
S’Nhu-gli looked back at Moses. “Truly you have not found other life ― any other life ― before us?”
“Nope. Not in twenty two star systems.”
“That must have been… disheartening.”
“You have no idea. So, thanks again for the phone call.” He smiled. “We were starting to get worried.”
“The ‘phone call’, as you put it, was the idea of my father’s father. On his behalf, you are welcome.”
“Moses, you’d better take a look at this.” Sandar said from the navigation console.
He looked over. “What’s up?”
She keyed a command into her console and pointed toward the main vid window. The overall view of the system had been replaced by an image of a planet. A ringed planet, one whose ring had a lopsided, irregular look to it.